


Of Wands and Weevils

by Ozalina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Cardiff, Crossover, M/M, Playing with timelines because I can, Poor Life Choices, Poor Remus, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Thoughts, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozalina/pseuds/Ozalina
Summary: When Lupin’s managed to get himself into self-destructive trouble, of course it falls to Snape to save him from the Muggles.





	Of Wands and Weevils

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in 2008 for a friend’s birthday. And then restarted it earlier this year, and still missed her birthday by three months. So happy 22nd/late 32nd birthday, Kat! 
> 
> Smush up of timelines, set during season two of Torchwood and just after Sirius has been sent to Azkaban. Just because I can.

The rain in Cardiff is omnipresent. It falls in a drizzle for nearly 365 days a year, soaking through every layer of clothing and every protection ever devised by humanity, infusing the inhabitants with a certain dampness of the soul.This results in a determination to drink and an unwillingness to let anything unusual faze them for more than a minute.

It was under that same rain that Severus Snape stood, on the Millennium Plaza, pulling his robes tightly around himself and glaring at the storm clouds rolling in from the Bay.  _ Wales _ . A Merlin-forsaken place. It was only because he still owed Dumbledore favours for saving him from Azkaban that he was even in the country, and only due to stupid idiotic Lupin’s bloody suicidal tendencies that anyone’s attendance was needed in the rain-sodden city.

Snape had had to walk in from outside of the city limits, an hour-long trudge in the deluge doing nothing for his mood except saturating him. He was under strict orders from Dumbledore not to even  _ remotely _ risk being seen doing magic. If Muggles saw him, it was only a matter of time before the Ministry found out, and then they’d find out about Lupin’s idiocy, and Lupin would end up sharing a cell with his old fuckbuddy, Black. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures didn’t exactly take kindly to werewolves who ran around unrestrained near Muggle settlements at full moon.

And there was also the fact that it was in  _ Cardiff _ , of all places, that Lupin had to have his breakdown. Anyone who tried to Apparate in Cardiff ended up with their body parts strewn across the continent. Snape had no wish to splinch himself to death, if only because he didn’t want to deal with James Potter’s smugness in the afterlife.

With a quick glance down at his pocket watch, he blew a stream of air into the cold breeze. He had to retrieve Lupin and deliver him safely to Dumbledore as quickly as possible. And then he could get back to his own life, skulking around the corridors of Hogwarts and terrifying children into obedience.

Sighing, he trudged across the pier, inwardly swearing at the kind of people who were willing to eat ice cream on a day like this. Snape might have given up on the whole killing-innocent-people thing once he’d decided to reject the Death Eaters and join the side of Light, but he’d be willing to make an exception for these idiots and cull them for the good of the rest of the species. He pushed open the door to the tourist information centre.

The young man behind the front desk was already standing, hands clasped behind his back. He nodded at Snape. “Professor. My name is Ianto Jones. Would you like me to fetch you some dry clothes?”

Snape had to grudgingly admire him for that. No uncertainty, no stumbling over his words, just a slightly dramatic efficiency. This was probably the man who’d contacted Dumbledore to say he’d found Lupin. And Dumbledore had probably told him that he’d send Snape along, like the good little kept ex-Death Eater he was.

With a scowl, Snape shook his head and withdrew his wand from his pocket. “I don’t need any help. I’d rather not spend any more time in this place than necessary.” He tapped his sleeve and muttered a spell, shaking his head to remove the last few drops of water. It didn’t really make much of a difference – inside, he still felt damp. Doing things by magic was never quite as fulfilling as doing it naturally, but it was a lot quicker.

Jones inclined his head slightly. “My apologies, sir. I’m afraid we don’t get many wizards visiting here – Torchwood doesn’t regularly deal with that side of affairs.”

Snape shrugged. “I was told you have what you think is a werewolf in custody. I’m here to get him.”

“Certainly.” Jones pressed something underneath his desk, and the whole of one wall started to slide away. “There won’t be any paperwork to complete – this is going to have to be a quick changeover, I’m afraid. No one here knows about Mr Lupin except myself. I thought that wise, given both the nature of his…  _ him _ , and also I’m not sure how many of the others who work here are aware of the wizarding world.”

Snape followed him into a dank passage, the stones reminding him of his own dungeons. The familiarity only caused another wave of annoyance to run through him. “But somehow you know exactly what we are, how to subdue a werewolf, and how to contact Dumbledore?”

Jones turned his head and flashed a quick smile. “I liaised with some of your Ministry members while I was at Torchwood London. Nice blokes. And Mr Lupin told me to message Mr Dumbledore while he was still delirious this morning, just after he’d woken up.” They paused in front of a metal door, where Jones pressed a button and the wall slid away.

There was silence as they stood inside the small room, mechanical noises echoing around them. Snape could feel Jones itching to make small talk, and had no idea of how to discourage him from talking again. Well, short of hexing him, and in such an enclosed space that probably wasn’t wise. He’d only end up hurting himself and end up in St Mungo’s with Dumbledore at his bedside, gazing in disappointment over his bloody half-moon spectacles.

Luckily, before Jones could mention something banal about the weather, the door bonged. It opened with a clang, and Jones led the way into a space that rivalled the Great Hall in height. Except for the big pole in the centre, which was probably some kind of decorative statement. Not, in Snape’s opinion, a particularly tasteful one. More like a tremendous penis substitute.

“Ianto! Why the hell is there – ” Snape whirled round at the voice to see a man striding down some stairs towards them. Snape wasn’t exactly interested in Muggle clothing – he’d wear trousers when the situation demanded it, and that was as far as he was willing to lower himself – but even  _ he _ knew that the clothes the man was wearing were several decades out of date. He stopped as soon as he saw Snape, and folded his arms. “Ianto, I’ve told you before. The point of having a  _ secret _ base is that you don’t let everyone in.” He paused, and looked Snape up and down, leaving him with the unpleasant feeling that he needed to cover himself with his hands. “No matter how attractive you find them. Captain Jack Harkness, at your service.”

“Professor Severus Snape.”

“Ooh, Professor…” Harkness grinned. “I dated a professor once. Used to quiz me in bed, and spank me if I got anything wrong. Now it’s a reflex action to get the stars of Orion’s belt wrong, just in case someone’s ready and willing to oblige with a paddle.”

“Alnilam, Alnitak, and Mintaka,” Snape reeled off, smirking. Well, he was only human. And Harkness had a rather nice jawline.

“Aw,” Harkness muttered, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. “Now I don’t get to spank you.”

Jones coughed quietly. “Rest easy, sir, in the knowledge that there are very few humans who know the history of the human race post-23 rd century. Quiz people on that and you’ll get your supply of spanking.”

Harkness grinned at Jones, and then shook his head. “Right, before I got so distracted…” He shot another look at Snape’s crotch. “Ianto, why is there a man in the cells wearing one of your suits? Remember, if one of your alternate selves drops in from another dimension, the suit is the first thing to come off. In the name of quarantine.”

Jones sighed. “No, Jack, he’s not a version of me. His name is Remus Lupin. He needed a bed for a night, and now Professor Snape is here to pick him up.”

Harkness blinked, and then scowled. “He needed a bed? Ianto, your lying is getting worse and worse.” He gave Snape another look over, this time a lot more critically. “Judging by Professor Snape’s robes, I’d be willing to bet this is something to do with the Ministry of Magic. So forgive me if I sound a bit angry here, but, Ianto, why the  _ hell _ didn’t you contact me the moment we ended up with a wizard in our cells?”

“I didn’t know you were aware of magic, sir,” Jones said. He had, quite subtly, moved his position. Rather than the relaxed way he’d been leaning into Harkness’s personal space, he’d straightened up and placed his hands behind his back. Tensed up. It reminded Snape of Gryffindors about to declare why they didn’t require a detention. “I thought it best to deal with all of this quickly and discreetly.”

“Meaning by yourself? I thought we’d had the conversation about removing CCTV footage without authorisation.” Harkness’s eyes had narrowed, and he took one threatening step closer to Jones. Jones didn’t flinch. Snape probably would have.

“Yes, sir. You said it was OK to remove certain items of footage I deemed suitable, so long as I kept one physical copy in a place where Gwen and Tosh couldn’t get their hands on it.”

The corner of Harkness’s mouth quirked upwards. “You know what I meant when I said that.”

Snape coughed delicately. While it was rather intriguing to watch them constantly flip between professionalism and flirting, he wanted to leave this stupid place. “If you’re quite finished?”

“Right.” Harkness clapped his hands together. “My office. Ianto can tell me all about it, we can fill in the right forms, and then when I’m satisfied, we can all go down to the cells.” He pointed at Jones. “And no sly comments about how I’m never satisfied.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “There’s a werewolf in your cells, and you want me to complete some paperwork?” 

Jones paled, and Harkness stared wide-eyed. It took Snape a moment to realise what was wrong, and when he did, it took a powerful effort of will to refrain from Obliviating the pair of them on the spot. Right. Harkness hadn’t known that little titbit of information. And now Snape had just outed Lupin to the Muggle organisation currently responsible for his custody. Bugger. 

“Werewolf?” Harkness gasped.

Jones laid a mollifying hand on Harkness’s sleeve. “He’s perfectly secure, sir – ”

“My office, now!” Harkness snapped, turning and taking the stairs two at a time, his coat billowing out behind him. Snape had to admire the dramatic gesture.

Jones swallowed hard. Then he turned to Snape and gestured for him to follow Harkness. “After you, Professor. Apologies for the slight detour. I hadn’t realised we weren’t alone down here. Shouldn’t take a moment.”

Snape sighed and pursed his lips. Annoying, but it was his own fault. It was possible that Jones’s flirting had been to disarm Harkness and throw him off the scent, and Snape had gone and ruined it by being impatient. 

He followed Harkness up the stairs and into a small, dimly lit office. Harkness had already thrown himself into the chair behind the desk, leaning back and glowering darkly as Jones quietly shut the door behind them. There were no chairs for Snape and Jones to sit in. It was a nice touch, Snape had to admit.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Professor?” Jones asked.

“No. Thank you.” 

“Ianto, start talking.”

Jones shuffled under Harkness’ glare, smoothing out his suit jacket with fidgeting fingers. “I – I met Mr Lupin while I was in Bristol. At the weekend. I had it off.”

“Explains why you’re feeling so protective,” Harkness drawled.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Pity.” Harkness leant back in his chair, folding his hands across his chest and smirking. “You, him, me, Professor Snape here – that’s a thought to warm the cockles of an old man’s heart.”

Jones rolled his eyes. “I can either tell you why we have a werewolf in the basement, or I can indulge your fantasies. Torchwood didn’t train me to do both at the same time. Sir.”

“Did Torchwood train you to seduce your boss?”

“When that boss is you, Jack, yes. There were numerous memos about you at Torchwood One.”

“Dirty memos?”

“Aren’t we getting somewhat off topic?”

“Sorry, Professor. Sir, may I continue?”

Harkness smirked and waved a hand. “Always, Ianto. If I ever tell you to stop, remind me of what that Welsh tongue can do.”

“As I was saying – I met Remus two days ago, in a bar in Bristol.” Snape noticed the drop into first names, and it seemed Harkness did too, from the way his eyebrow raised. “He seemed somewhat upset, but as I was drunk and he was quite reticent, I didn’t find out why. In the morning, I woke up in his hotel room, and he was looking at the scars on his arms. When I said I had to get back to Cardiff, he asked for a lift to the Beacons, and told me I should stay away from them. Asked if there were any settlements up there that I knew about. As you know, sir, I like to keep up on my history, and I’m fairly familiar with the incident that led to Torchwood being founded. So, once Remus was out of the car, I checked the date and saw it was the full moon. And then I followed him. I took my Weevil spray, sir, because I’m not a complete idiot. I saw Remus use his wand to chain himself to the mountainside, I hung around until he changed and then I subdued him. Broke his chains, brought him back here, waited for him to wake up, and then contacted Professor Dumbledore.”

“And you knew how to do that because...?”

Jones smiled, and shrugged one shoulder. “I had to deal with wizard contacts at Torchwood One a few times.”

Snape was more than slightly incredulous. He’d seen Lupin in wolf form as a teenager, and that had been terrifying. And he hadn’t even been fully grown at that point. Lupin was skinny, but as a wolf that turned into pure muscle. In Snape’s view, only Dumbledore and fully trained Ministry wizards would even think about going up against a werewolf. For ordinary people, that was just insane. “You  _ subdued _ a  _ werewolf _ ?”

“Weevil spray subdues most things.” Jones turned back to Harkness. “Which reminds me, sir. We’re running low. I had to use some down in the cells. When I brought Remus in, Janet really didn’t like it. She… well, she just didn’t like it.”

Harkness leaned his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “I can’t really let this go, you know. A werewolf running loose on the Welsh mountains? There’s a lot of stray hikers up there.”

Snape sighed. “I’m aware of that, and I’m pretty sure Lupin is too. He’s got a death wish.”

“What happened to him?”

Snape’s jaw tightened involuntarily. “I don’t know how much your ‘Torchwood’ contacts may have picked up on, but my people have just suffered through a major war, Captain. Everyone lost someone; everyone has a sob story. Lupin just has the advantage in that his particular little tragedy started at the age of four, when he was bitten by the wolf. Apart from that, he's nothing special.”

Harkness inclined his head in a semblance of an apology. “Been there, done that.” He sighed. “Professor, what’s your honest opinion of Mr Lupin?”

“Honestly? Snape sighed. “I’m not particularly fond of him, so this is probably fairly unbiased. He’s a ridiculous idiot who likes to martyr himself. He always wants to do the right thing, and when he forgets and does something to hurt anyone else, he beats himself up and falls over himself to apologise. It’s happened at least once before that I know of - he nearly attacked another student while still at school, and he hasn’t stopped apologising in the intervening five or so years. Appalling taste in friends, but given my own regrettable choices in that department, I can’t really judge him for that. None of your Muggles were ever in any danger last night. If he transfigured the chains, they would have been strong enough to hold him. He would have made sure of that. He wants to die, not take anyone else with him.”

“So,” Harkness said, tapping a finger on the piece of paper in front of him, “if I put him into the system and your Ministry find out about it, what happens to him?”

“Execution or imprisonment,” Snape said.

“Even though he chained himself up?” Harkness frowned.

“Even then.” Snape pursed his mouth slightly. “Lupin is a Dark Creature, and not easily trusted by most of our kind. There won’t be any mitigating circumstances.”

“Please, Jack,” Jones whispered.

“Who did he lose?” Harkness said.

“His lover killed three of their best friends. Along with other innocents, and attempting to murder a one-year-old child. Apparently everyone apart from me was surprised by that.”

Harkness and Jones exchanged heavy glances, and then Harkness sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m going to regret this,” he muttered. “Fine. We’ll do this off the books. If Ianto vouches for him, that’s good enough for me. But if it happens again – ”

“It won’t,” Snape interrupted. 

Harkness nodded. “If you'd like to follow me down to the cells, then, Professor.”

Lupin was sitting in the corner of his cell, legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at the opposite wall. Around them, the beasts in the other cells roared and whimpered, or settled for bashing their heads against the clear material that protected them.

Lupin didn’t flinch as Jones swiped his card down the side of the cell. He didn't flinch when the door sprang open, and he didn’t flinch when Harkness stepped inside and began to talk. “Mr Lupin, time to vacate our homely establishment.”

Lupin shook his head, still staring at the wall. “I broke the rules. I could have killed someone. I’m a beast – you should execute me.”

Ah, so Lupin did want to commit suicide by Muggle. Snape had been right. Obviously. “Oh, trust me, Lupin, that is still a possibility.”

At the sound of Snape’s voice, Lupin jumped and looked up at him, eyes wide and wondering. “Severus? Why are... What are you doing here?”

“That, Lupin, is a question I’ve been asking myself all morning.” Snape sighed, and held out a hand. “Get up. Dumbledore wants to see you.”

Lupin shook his head, and looked down at the ground. He looked thinner than Snape remembered. But it hadn’t been  _ that _ long since they’d seen each other: right before Black had decided to reveal himself, kill the Potters and destroy everything for everyone. “I don’t deserve it. Go and tell Dumbledore you were too late to save me.”

“I live in his school. I owe him my life several times over. If he finds out I left you to die, he’ll keep throwing disappointed looks at me over the porridge – and that, Lupin, would make my life hell – so, no, I’m afraid you’re coming with me. Also, if you’re quite done having your nervous breakdown, these nice people would like their cell back.”

The mention of inconveniencing other people got Lupin scrambling to his feet, as Snape had thought it might. “I'm sorry.” He held out his hand towards Harkness. “Remus Lupin. I… I’m willing to take whatever punishment my actions require.”

Snape was sure that Harkness was going to make some kind of innuendo at Lupin’s phrasing, but instead he shook Lupin’s hand with a kind smile. “Captain Jack Harkness, at your service. I’ve been talking to Ianto and the Professor here, and they seem to think that you wouldn’t have hurt anyone.”

“But I  _ could _ have done,” Lupin said quietly.

Harkness hummed in agreement. “Look, I trust Ianto. He’s usually –  _ usually _ – a good judge of character. This is a one-time thing, and – no offence – I don’t think you’re in your right mind, so for now we’ll just sweep it all out of the way. I’ve got more important things to be doing, and so do your people. Of course, if I ever see you around Cardiff on a full moon again, I’ll take you down myself.” Harkness flashed another winning smile, and clapped Lupin on the shoulder. Then he started to guide Lupin towards the door, leaving Snape and Jones to follow them. “But seriously, you’ve only got about five more minutes before the rest of my team start turning up for work, and then I’ll have to make this a bit more official.”

Lupin nodded, keeping his face turned to the ground. “Of course. Thank you. I don’t deserve  this.”

They fell into silence as they walked into the large open space again. Harkness whispered something into Jones’s ear and ran back up the stairs to his office. Jones cleared his throat. “Jack will meet us upstairs. I’ve got the rest of your belongings at the front desk, Remus, if you’d follow me.”

Once Remus had his threadbare coat wrapped around his shoulders, Harkness reappeared. “Good luck,” he said to Remus.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered. “Goodbye, Ianto. You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me, but – thank you all the same.”

Before Snape could work out what to say, Harkness was leaning towards Lupin. “Everyone deserves a second chance,” he said quietly. “And what you did last night wasn’t really bad enough to count as a first one. Me? I’ve done bad things and I’ve loved bad people. And I’ve been called a monster on more planets than you can even imagine. Maybe I am, and maybe you are. But all we can do is try and be better than that. Try and look after the people you love, and then they’ll look after the people they love. We’re not the ones with the power to change the past, but we can try to change our future.” Snape thought that Harkness might be about to continue, but he cut himself off with a flash of a disarming smile. He leant forward and pressed a quick kiss to Lupin’s cheek. “Live and love well, Remus Lupin,” Harkness whispered. 

Lupin blinked slowly. He looked across at Jones, seemingly at a loss for what to say.

Jones smiled softly. “Like Jack says, second chances. He’s had more than one, and so have I.” He hesitated for a second, and then said, “Remus – don’t blame yourself for loving the wrong person.” Snape saw what he thought was grief flash across his face before it was replaced by that same soft smile.

It was all getting a bit too Hufflepuff. Lupin might be looking slightly less haunted after the Muggles’ inspiring speeches, but Snape needed to leave before his reputation was irreparably ruined. “Jones, Harkness,” he said with a brisk nod. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Harkness nodded, and held out his hand for Snape to shake. “Take care of him,” he murmured. “Any time you feel like coming back – ”

“I’ll try to suppress the urge.”

“Well, I’ve been around a bit. I know what werewolves can do to themselves.” Harkness handed Snape a bag that clanked when he moved it. “Weevil spray. Maybe you could… get someone to take a look at it. See what they can find out. See if there’s anything that might be able to help him.”

Snape highly doubted that Muggles could have developed a cure for lycanthropy, but he took the bag anyway – after all, it had apparently managed to knock out an adult werewolf for a number of hours. Analysing the contents might while away one afternoon.

“Goodbye, Captain. Mr Jones.” He pushed the door open. The world outside was grey, the rain still falling in steady sheets. Well, there was nothing else for it. He squared his shoulders and stepped out, heading for the steps and the main Bay area.

He was at the top of the steps when he realised Lupin wasn’t right behind him. “Hurry up,” he called.

“I don’t want to go back.” Snape turned. Lupin was hugging himself tightly and staring out to sea, the rain soaking his hair to his head. 

“If you stay here,” Snape said, “then the next time you change, they’ll know about you. And so will the Ministry. Changing in a Muggle area? Azkaban. Or worse.”

Lupin shrugged, the corner of his mouth turning in a half-smile. “And if I leave? I’ve got nothing left, Severus.”

“Can we continue this ridiculous conversation inside? I’m beginning to lose the feeling in my toes.”

Lupin sighed. “Can’t you just – go back to Dumbledore, tell him that I was – ”

“I am going into that coffee shop, and I am going to have a drink. And I know you’ve got Muggle money on you, because you’re always obnoxiously prepared. So come with me, use their ridiculous currency to buy me a coffee, and I’ll pay you back when we’re back at Hogwarts.” He turned and walked off. He didn’t think Lupin would dare to argue, not the morning after a full moon. If it had been the day before, Snape would probably have ended up with a broken nose. 

When he swung open the door, the coffee shop was the perfect mixture of busy enough that no-one would eavesdrop on their conversation, and quiet enough that no-one was currently sitting in the tall-backed armchairs by the empty fireplace.

Snape sat down in one with a flourish, turning back to the door to see Lupin closing it behind himself with a hangdog expression. Rather than coming straight across to join him, Lupin moved to the counter and talked to the girl behind the bar, making her laugh slightly at whatever he’d mentioned. Something about the weather, if Snape was any judge.

Waiting for her to make the coffee and for Lupin to bring them over gave Snape the opportunity to examine Lupin at more length. He didn’t appear to be as injured as he normally was after the full moon, although he did seem to be moving in such a way so as to take up the least amount of room possible.

Snape had always thought Lupin was the least objectionable of the Gryffindor boys in their year. Too easily influenced and eager to please the idiots in his dormitory, perhaps. And a disgusting taste in partners: Sirius Black was a murderous, bullying little shit even before he’d decided to join the Dark Lord, so it was anyone’s guess as to what Lupin had ever seen in him beyond his face. But Lupin had always tried to treat Snape with respect. He’d never managed to entirely stop Potter and Black’s persecution, but at least he’d never fully partaken in it, and a few times he’d even managed to muster a couple of apologies.

Lupin placed a mug down in front of Snape and then took his own seat silently. Snape raised the coffee, took a deep sniff, and then glared at the rain outside.

“You had to go insane in  _ Wales _ ,” Snape sneered. “Next time, try to choose somewhere the locals  haven’t developed webbed feet in order to cope with the weather.”

“I didn’t ask to be retrieved,” Lupin muttered. 

Snape glared at him, but Lupin’s head stayed resolutely down, gazing into his cup as his fingers traced a slow pattern on the sticky wood. “Would you really have preferred me to leave you to be executed?”

“I don’t care.”

Snape sighed. “Yes, because it makes so much sense to survive an entire war and  _ then _ develop a death wish.”

“I deserve to die.”

“No, you don’t.”

Lupin’s head snapped up and he fixed Snape with a glare. “Sirius Black killed countless witches and wizards, along with my best friends and blowing up Muggles in the street. And I’m responsible for that, because I never told anyone about my suspicions. I knew there was a spy in the Order, and I thought it was him. But I didn’t tell anyone. So I might as well have killed all of them myself.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so melodramatic. He was your lover, not your responsibility.”

“You have no idea what it’s like,” Lupin hissed. “Have you ever even been in love,  _ Snivellus _ ?”

Snape leant forward, lowering his voice so that the words didn’t echo in the empty café. “That’s what  _ Black _ used to call me.”

Lupin recoiled as if hit, and gaped for a few moments. “I – I’m so sorry, Severus.”

Snape shrugged with one shoulder, taking another sip from his cup and glaring at the teenager behind the counter until she stopped staring at them. “It’s fine, Lupin. You get used to it after a while.”

“No. I really am – he was a bastard. Completely. I thought – I thought I knew him. Shit – I should have known. I  _ loved _ him!” Lupin looked up, and Snape shifted awkwardly. He couldn’t deal with it if Lupin had a complete breakdown in the middle of this Muggle shop. “How could I love him for so long without knowing he was a-” Lupin stopped. “I was going to call him a monster, but he isn’t.” He smiled then, a sad little thing without any humour. “ _ I’m _ a monster. He’s beyond that.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “You’re not a monster, Lupin. You were… unlucky. As a child, and as a teenager – you get bitten by a werewolf, you fall for Black. There’s no accounting for taste.”

“That’s an appalling joke,” Lupin muttered, smiling despite himself, and Snape grinned into his own drink.

“You look a lot better when you smile. I mean, moping suits you, but by Merlin it makes you dull.”

Lupin shook his head again, and huffed a little laugh, looking up at Snape through his lowered lashes. “I’m so sorry, Severus. You’re quite right. I should be a lot more complacent about the fact that the man I loved betrayed our best friends and orphaned their son.”

“There’s a good boy,” Snape smirked. “And, to answer your rather bitchy question…” Snape looked off to the side, just so he didn’t have to look Lupin in the eye. “Of course I know what love is, Lupin. There was – someone. But she didn’t want me, and moved on, and surprisingly enough so did I. Turns out that burying yourself in work is good for developing a reputation as a moody genius.”

There was silence for a moment. “For what it’s worth,” Lupin shrugged, “I’m sorry.” He twisted his lips in a wry smile. “I suppose you’re going to class last night as ‘typical Gryffindor histrionics’.”

The way Lupin put emphasis on the words made it sound like he was quoting Snape. Not that Snape could remember ever using those words, but it didn’t sound entirely unlike him. “You don’t get the monopoly on grief, you know.”

“So I should just move on and get over it?”

“Well, you shouldn’t go around trying to commit suicide by Muggle without letting anyone know where you are.” Snape drummed his fingers against the coffee mug. “I know you’re probably internally moping about how all your friends are dead, but there are still people out there who care about you.”

Lupin raised an eyebrow. “But they don’t know that I’m… what I am. If they knew I was a werewolf, they’d run a mile from me.”

Snape tapped a finger on the inside of his left wrist. “You think no-one would ever run from me if they saw what was under my robes? You’re not the only one with ‘friends’ who murdered people.”

Lupin hummed in agreement. “Are you trying to tell me that we aren’t that different?”

“Tell me you can find anyone else who understands what you’ve been through and won’t let you wallow in your own melodrama.” Snape drained the dregs of his coffee and stood, pulling a face at the bitterness. “Come on. I’ve had enough of Wales and Muggles.” He extended one hand down to Lupin, who was chewing the corner of his lip. 

Lupin nodded, and grasped the hand that was offered, pulling himself upwards.

It came as a slight surprise, really, to find that Lupin didn’t stop himself and instead kept on going until his mouth was pressed against Snape’s own.

It wasn’t that it was a bad kiss. Lupin’s lips were cracked slightly, a little dry, and his breath probably wasn’t helped by the night spent in the cells, but he knew how to press and move. But... something felt off. Maybe it was the fact that the kiss felt like it had come out of nowhere. 

Not that Snape was opposed to the kiss in principle. Lupin wasn’t bad looking. The most anyone could complain about was the scars, but Snape had always found them intriguing rather than offputting, conjuring idle thoughts about tracing each one with his tongue. There’d been a time, back around about fourth year, where the small part of Hogwarts that wasn’t obsessed with Black or Potter had had crushes on Lupin. Snape himself hadn’t been an exception. The occasional study sessions he’d been forced into with Lupin had provided ample fodder for his late-night dreams, where the conclusions had a lot less clothing than reality.

Of course, then he’d nearly been ripped apart by Lupin’s teeth and claws, and that had put a bit of a curb on his hormonal teenaged imagination.

Then he realised what was wrong. Lupin was pressed up against him, hands so tight on his shoulders that it felt like it was cutting off the blood supply to his hands. And when Snape opened his eyes, Lupin’s own were clenched shut. 

With a tinge of regret and cursing his occasional bursts of conscience, Snape pushed Lupin away. Lupin looked almost comical, leaning forward and trying to recapture Snape’s lips with his eyes still shut. “Lupin, open your eyes.”

Lupin blinked, and touched his lips with a single finger. “I – Severus, I – ”

Snape glanced quickly around the coffee shop. No one was taking any notice of them. Maybe this happened a lot more in Cardiff than in Hogsmeade. He shrugged, patting Lupin’s arm. “It’s fine, Lupin. I’m hardly likely to take it personally. While I don’t object in theory, I do have slightly more self-respect than to fuck you while you close your eyes and imagine your ex.”

Lupin flushed immediately, opening his mouth to frame some words that Snape assumed would be something like, ‘But, Severus, you’re so big and strong and manly that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we first met aged eleven and my ex made your nose grow every time you spoke.’ Or maybe he was being too cynical. “I – OK, I’m sorry.” Lupin stared at the ground for a second, and then reached up to kiss Snape again, pressing their lips together lightly. This time, he didn’t even blink, holding eye contact. 

Snape pulled back, enough so that they weren’t still attached at the lips, but not enough for Lupin to immediately class it as rejection. “Really?”

Lupin shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe this is a bad idea, but my last significant other was a mass-murdering lunatic who’s now imprisoned in Azkaban. You’re definitely a step up from that.”

Snape raised an eyebrow, and stepped back, folding his arms. “Your assessment of me is hardly flattering.”

Lupin raised a wry eyebrow. “I’m trying this honesty thing. Secrets didn’t really work too well in my last relationship.”

“I’m still not going to take you home to have sex.” His conscience really would be just insufferable if he did that. But maybe it would have been worthwhile.

Snape hadn’t been lying to himself; he really had loved Lily. Still, Lupin had lost Black, even if Black had been an insufferable bastard and then a killer. Maybe they could be completely cliché and find some kind of solace in each other. 

“Who says that’s what I was offering? But fine,” Lupin allowed. “I suppose that might be a little reckless.” Snape almost wanted to applaud the return of the man’s sense of self-preservation. 

But he didn’t want to drop Lupin alone back into the middle of Hogsmeade without any friends, family or home. Snape swallowed. “I suppose it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to be alone tonight. After all, you tried to kill yourself yesterday.”

Lupin smiled and nodded. “Maybe we could talk?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “It’s not even been an hour. We’ll start with a game of Wizard’s Chess and work our way up to conversation. Come on.” 

They walked back out into the rain, squared their shoulders for another long walk and set out side by side.


End file.
